


I follow you like constellations

by blackkat



Series: Blyla Drabbles [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Families of Choice, Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Post-Order 66, Romance, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “You're sure about this, General?” Bail Organa asks quietly.
Relationships: CC-5052 | Bly/Aayla Secura
Series: Blyla Drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615657
Comments: 25
Kudos: 936
Collections: Star Wars Alternate Universes





	I follow you like constellations

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: for your star wars prompts, how about one where more Jedi survived order 66 and instead of Leia and Luke going to Tatooine and Alderaan they're instead raised by the other Jedi (and of their squads because fuck control chips) maybe Aalya and Bly or Plo Koon and Wolffe?

“You're sure about this, General?” Bail Organa asks quietly.

“Not so much a general anymore, Senator,” Aayla says, a little wry, and smiles down at the little girl in her arms. Leia stares back, big eyes and nothing more than wisps of brown hair crowning her head, and Aayla wonders if she’ll end up looking like Padmé.

Wonders, too, how much it will hurt if she does.

“Hello, little one,” she says, and offers Leia a finger. Tiny hands immediately latch onto it, pulling it down, and Aayla smiles. “She has quite the grip.”

Bail’s expression is painful as he watches Leia. “She does. And—she’s started moving things from her crib already.” He grimaces, rubbing a hand over his face, and says, “Obi-Wan left her with us, but—I’ve already found two Imperial spies in my household, and if the emperor realizes that she’s Force-sensitive, born just when Padmé would have given birth…” He spreads his hands, helpless. “I would risk so many things for her, Master Aayla. But I wouldn’t risk _her_.”

A parent’s sacrifice, Aayla thinks, and if it’s a little wry, she thinks she can probably be forgiven. Quinlan was always father enough for her, after she entered the temple. “The Empire will not find us,” she promises Bail, and shifts Leia up higher on her shoulder. Leia doesn’t protest, just grabs for her lekku, and Aayla chuckles, curling the tip of one just out of reach. She gives Leia a strap of leather from her wrap to play with instead, and says, “I will protect her with everything, Senator.”

Bail breathes out, and manages a faint smile. “I know,” he says. “I've met your old teacher, and if you're anything like him…”

Aayla laughs, soft. “Very little,” she promises, because she knows precisely how Quinlan comes off to those around him. “Except where it counts.”

“Well,” Bail says dryly, “since I wasn’t tempted to shoot you three minutes into our meeting, I assumed as much.” He hesitates, then leans over and kisses Leia on the forehead. “Thank you for the light you brought,” he murmurs to her, and then turns and deliberately puts his back to them. “Master Aayla. Safe travels.”

“May the Force be with you, Senator,” Aayla says softly, and watches him leave, his guard falling into step as he exits the room. She wonders what sort of story he’ll have to come up with about losing his new daughter, how Alderaan as a whole will take it. Wonders how the emperor would react, and Darth Vader as well, if they realized.

With a soft sigh, she turns her attention to Leia again, offers the child her best smile, and catches a tiny hand as it reaches for her lek again. “Ah, ah. We will have to teach you about that. Too sensitive for tugging, my sweet.” Carefully, she tugs Leia's wrappings up, then lets the very edges of a Force suggestion touch her mind. “Sleep. Sleep and all will be well when you wake.”

Leia burbles a soft noise, like a mild protest, but a moment later her eyes slide shut. Aayla holds her for a long moment, cradled in her arms, and then sighs.

“I had to fight Plo Koon for the chance to raise you, little one,” she says, amused, and touches her wispy hair once more before she covers Leia completely. “He was very put out. I think Wolffe was, too.” It will be better this way, though. Aayla’s squad is smaller, able to move more easily if they're found, and she has several places to hide away where the emperor’s forces won't find her. Where the emperor himself won't find her, which is far more vital. A Sith on the throne means anyone with a connection to the Force is vulnerable.

Drawing her hood up, Aayla tugs the mask up over the bottom half of her face, then checks her blaster. Her lightsaber is too obvious to use so close to the Core and is hidden safely away in one of her pockets, but the lack of it makes her tense, unsettled. Especially given her precious cargo at the moment.

Alderaan is a peaceful world. The streets are quiet when she leaves the inn, with only a handful of people passing. This far from the capital, even the speeder traffic is sparse, but it hardly settles Aayla’s nerves. She keeps a hand close to her blaster, a touch of awareness on all the minds around her, and moves quickly towards the spaceport on the edge of the town. Leia sleeps undisturbed, and Aayla only hopes that her Force suggestion will hold long enough for them to get back to the ship unnoticed.

Halfway there, a touch of intent curls past her senses, and a heavy footstep makes her slow. A figure in Mandalorian armor falls into step with her, helmet turning as he scans the streets, and he says grimly, “Quiet.”

“Not every quiet moment is a trap,” Aayla tells him, faintly amused. “But—the peace here does feel particularly trying.”

“They’re just waiting for the emperor to do something,” he says, and glances down at the bundle held in the crook of her arm. “Everything went all right?”

“I closed the deal,” Aayla confirms, because a pair of bounty hunters talking about business is hardly noticeable, even on a peaceful world like Alderaan. Bail came in disguise, as well, so even if they are being tracked it won't get back to the senator.

“Good,” he says, and keeps scanning the streets as they approach the port. It’s simple to get back to their ship, small and light and quick; no one stops them, and the only one who looks twice at them is woman who takes their credits for the docking fee. Even then, Aayla can feel the attraction that’s behind the glance, and she winks at the woman, who flushes and immediately waves them through.

“You’re a menace,” her partner says, dry, and Aayla laughs.

“You’ve never complained before,” she says, and pings the ship as they approach.

“I’ve complained a lot,” he counters, and when Aayla raises a brow at him, he sighs. “Quietly. To myself.”

Aayla snorts, and as soon as the ramp settles she heads up it, pulling her hood back and removing the mask. “If you do not register a complaint, I rather think it does not count,” she teases, and as one of the waiting men rises to greet them, she smiles at him. “Inc, how is everything?”

Inc looks only a little frazzled, which is probably a good sign. “More or less steady, sir. There was only a little bit of crying, and Barr put a stop to that soon enough.”

“Don’t say it like _that_ ,” Barr protests from the sleeping quarters, and a moment later he leans out to give Aayla a beseeching look. “Galle and I built a mobile, that’s all. I think he likes it.”

“He does,” Aayla says, able to feel the contentment and wonder that ring in the Force, innocent and full of light. Unwrapping Leia, she steps into the bunkroom, where a crib occupies most of one wall. Galle is sitting beside it, turning the mobile with a finger so the droid parts and gears flash, and he gives her a grin as she approaches.

“Think this one’s going to be a mechanic, sir,” he says. “We tried a couple of your necklaces and he didn’t give a damn, but as soon as he saw the clanker parts he was all over it.”

“You tried _what_?” The splutter is almost lost behind the Mandalorian helmet, but Aayla just laughs.

“It’s fine, Bly,” she says, because he’s always so protective. Always so careful with her, ever since Order 66 went out.

It didn’t fail everywhere, but—some of the men were able to fight it. _Aayla’s_ men were able to fight it, and she’ll never stop being grateful, no matter how dark the galaxy gets.

“Those are _yours_ ,” Bly says, mildly distressed, but Aayla just leans over Luke in the crib and gives him a smile. He beams back, a happy child, and waves a hand when she curls a lek at him.

Aayla just tips a shoulder. “I'm grateful for the gifts,” she says warmly, and Barr, who’s given her at least one of them, flushes faintly and looks away. “But Jedi do not have possessions, so I am not used to it. If they can keep the children happy, I am happy to share them.”

 _Practical_ , Bly thinks, directed at her, and it’s despairing and warm all at once. Aayla curls equally warm thoughts around his, and says over her shoulder, “Inc, the docking fees are paid and we’ve been cleared to take off, if you’re willing to get us off the ground.”

“Sure,” Inc says easily. “Back to our home port?”

Dagobah. It’s too damp for Aayla’s tastes, perpetually swampy and humid, but it’s the purest places she’s ever felt in the Force, and more than strong enough to hide a few Jedi, clones, and Jedi-to-be. Those of her order who managed to survive the purges have to be careful about congregating there, but—it’s far safer than any other planet would be. Aayla is too well-known on other worlds, and her troopers can't hide well with their faces.

“Yes,” she says. “Take the long route, though.”

Barr pulls a face. “I’d better check supplies, then,” he says. “We’re due a restock soon.”

“The cannons need some work, too,” Galle agrees, and slides off the bunk. “You’re good, sir?”

“Yes, thank you.” Aayla touches his arm as he passes, lets him feel her gratitude. Bly’s said more than once that it was her presence in their heads that kept them from obeying Order 66, a desperate awareness of _her_ as the general they knew and loved that made them fight the command until she could knock them out. Ever since, she’s let herself be as free with it as she dares in these times, and—

It’s not a training bond. It’s not quite a partner bond like she has with Bly. But it’s something close, and it’s kept them all alive.

Galle’s hand catches hers, just for a moment, and he squeezes, then retreats from the room. The door hisses closed, and with a sigh Bly pulls off his helmet and starts unbuckling his armor. Aayla watches him, admiring quietly, and the red that creeps up his cheeks under the weight of her gaze is a charming thing.

In her hold, Leia stirs with a cranky sound, and Aayla hushes her, then carefully leans over and settles her next to her brother in the crib. It gets her a huffy sound, but after a moment Leia twists, bats at Luke, and then seems to go back to sleep without a fuss. For a long moment, Aayla simply watches them, feeling tired and warm and victorious in equal measure.

Darth Vader’s children. Anakin's children. _Padmé’s_ children, and Aayla finds it hard to believe that two infants can be the hope of the galaxy, but—she can believe that they need to be kept away from the Empire, along with every Force-sensitive child they can find.

Enough Jedi survived the purge that the Order is not gone, but it is certainly at risk, and very much underground. If the freedom fighters of Ryloth have taught Aayla anything, though, it’s that eventually the opportunity for freedom comes. All they have to do is wait, prepare, hold themselves ready, and someday the Force will reveal their path.

“I'm glad Kenobi saw it your way,” Bly says, and a moment later an arm slides around her waist. His breath touches the nape of her neck, and Aayla leans back into the warmth of his body. Bly lays a kiss against a lek, making her shiver, and then wraps his arms around her, holding tightly.

“Perhaps if fewer Jedi had survived it would have been a good plan,” Aayla says, though she thinks it’s an impossibly foolish thing, that Obi-Wan left Luke on Anakin's home planet, with Anakin's extended family, and expected it to serve as a hiding place. “But there are still enough of us that we can have some of what was taken from us.” Not everything; there are no more temples, no more councilors, no more safe havens beyond the tiny knots of refugees who have regrouped and tried to reestablish something like a community. It’s a careful one, connected by hidden pathways and gatekeepers willing to die for those secrets they protect, but for now, until they can reemerge into the light, it will be enough.

The Code is in tatters, without the foundation of the temples to hold it, but—Aayla wonders, sometimes, if that’s entirely a bad thing. They have to fit themselves into a new galaxy, a hostile world, and for all the Code once set the law, here and now their only law comes from the Force.

Perhaps it will be better that way, now that they’ve lost so much.

“I hope Rex and Cody can keep him safe,” Bly says on a slow breath. “He’s baiting Vader. Most people would call that suicidal.”

“If anyone can handle Anakin, it is Obi-Wan,” Aayla says firmly. She presses her hands over Bly’s on her stomach, laces their fingers together, and feels him exhale long and slow as the engines rumble to life beneath their feet. “He will be all right. Cody and Rex are well-versed in handling him.”

Bly snorts. “That’s what I thought about myself, and handling _you_ ,” he tells her. “And now we’re parents to Darth Vader’s kids.”

“You truly object?” Aayla asks, raising a brow. She hadn’t thought so, and Bly had accepted immediately when she brought the idea to him and the rest of the men, but if he’s having second thoughts—

“I’m game for changing diapers if you are,” Bly says, and pulls away. The gold stripes of his tattoo catch Luke's attention as he bends down, and immediately the child reaches for him. Leia stirs, too, and eagerly grabs for the offered pinky. Smiling faintly, Bly lets Luke catch his hand too, and says, “Hello, Luke, Leia. Welcome aboard. _Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad_.”

 _I know your name as my child_. An adoption vow, and to a Mandalorian, nothing is more sacred. Feeling warm, Aayla leans into his side, looking down at the twins, and lets her lek curl over his shoulder and around his bicep.

Her Mando’a is rudimentary, better for getting into a fight than anything else, so it takes her a moment to find the words. When she does, though, she murmurs without hesitation, “ _Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde_.”

Bly’s breath catches hard and fast in his throat, and in an instant he’s straightening, turning to face her. “Aayla?” he asks, and his voice cracks.

Aayla smiles at him, letting him see she means the traditional vow with everything she has. “We are one when together. We are one when parted. We will share all. We will raise warriors,” she repeats, and curls a hand around the edge of the crib. “Bly, I would raise warriors with you. No matter what the future brings.”

Bly lets out a ragged breath, wrapping his arms around her again. He pulls her in, rests their foreheads together, and Aayla watches as he closes his eyes, expression passing through grief and into joy.

“The bravest warriors,” he says. “Fit to save a galaxy.”

“Ah,” Aayla says, soft, warm. “But we’ve already done that, Bly. We saved the galaxy when we survived.”

Bly laughs, rough, overwhelmed. “Guess we did,” he agrees, and kisses her. Aayla tangles her fingers in his hair and holds on tight, and it feels like there’s a sun in her chest, the Force singing relief and light all around them, impossible to silence. 


End file.
